


Why, oh why, can't I?

by Livingonaprayerstiel



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Feelings, Fluff, M/M, PTSD, Wizard of Oz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 07:15:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2379575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livingonaprayerstiel/pseuds/Livingonaprayerstiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written to fill the prompt "Bucky and Steve dancing to old records"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why, oh why, can't I?

It was only eight in the morning and, already, Steve could tell it was going to be a bad day. For one, he had woken up alone in his bed. Most nights, even though the nightmares had become few and far between, Bucky would crawl into bed with him at some point. Steve hadn't heard any screaming from the other room, but that didn't mean that it wasn't a bad day.  
Bucky had been living in Avengers Tower, with Steve, for a little over two years now. Most days were pretty great now. Bucky's memory was still patchy in places, but he trusted Steve enough to fill in the holes. Their friendship was, for the most part, exactly how it was before Bucky had been drafted. But, recovery always comes with relapses and Steve was all in for it. He didn't care how many nights he had to wake up and rock Bucky in his arms. How many nights that he had to whisper to him that he was safe now. Or how many days he had to dodge a blow because something had triggered the Winter Soldier. It was all worth it for the days that Bucky would look at him and smile with the same swagger he had had in 1943. It was worth it for all the new memories they made too.  
So, when Steve had awoken at six and Bucky had not been there, Steve knew it was going to be one of the more difficult days. But, he made some eggs and left them outside Bucky's door and went on a run with Sam. He knew now that, sometimes on days like this, he had to let Bucky work through things his own way. As much as he would walk through fire for the guy, it would only delay Bucky's recovery, as well as his own.  
Steve had recently begun to see a therapist as well, for his PTSD and depression. It was something Sam had brought up a few months after Bucky had returned.  
"You threw down your shield because you thought you'd lost him," he had said, "You were ready to let him kill you, rather than live without him. That doesn't sound a little suicidal to you? Hell, the first time, after he fell, you crashed a plane into the ocean!"  
"I'm not suicidal!" Steve protested, "I was saving the world. People could have died, lots of them. Better just me than thousands, maybe millions of them."  
"And that's another thing," Sam continued, "You carry the guilt and weight of the whole world on your shoulders. That's not heathy. Live for you. Not for them. Not even for Bucky. I know you love him. But," he hesitated, "Maybe you need to come to terms that he may not always be around or that, given what he's been through, he can't love you back. At least not the way he used to."  
"I don't know what you're talking about," Steve said quickly.  
Sam looked at him skeptically, "Come on, I saw the way you looked at him. You can't tell me it wasn't like that."  
Steve didn't say anything, but his blush had given it away for sure. After that, he had agreed to talk to someone. He had been working on finding things that he loved that had nothing to do with his duty as Captain America. So, he kept another list. The top two things on the list were Bucky and music. He'd also been working on his dependency on Bucky's happiness for his own. He couldn't dwell in the past, but had to love Bucky completely for who he was now, even if that person was never the Bucky that had loved him back. He had found this easier than expected and quickly realized that he would never stop loving Bucky from any time. And if all they got back was friendship, he would be okay. He wasn't the same person from the '40s either. How could he expect Bucky to be? They would find a way to survive together in this new time.  
He kept his phone on loud, just in case Bucky needed him. But, otherwise, he stayed out of the house to give him space. He walked around Central Park and tried all sorts of fried foods he'd never had before. All in all, it was a quiet day and, when he returned home in the evening, he found the apartment much the same as he had left it. There was an empty plate outside of Bucky's door, so Steve felt better knowing that he'd eaten something.  
Deciding that he was still hungry, Steve set about the kitchen. While he was cooking, he decided to put on some music. He pulled out a Harry James record and dropped the needle. The sounds of big bad filled the room and Steve inhaled deeply. Music had always been one of his favorite things. Even though he'd never danced in public when he was small, he'd bounced around his and Bucky's apartment, tripping over his feet and making Bucky laugh.  
He made it through the entire record by the time he had finished cooking. He had made a pasta primavera with sautéed vegetable and a red wine vinaigrette sauce. He made extra and put it in the refrigerator, just in case Bucky decided he wanted to eat. Steve sat down on the couch, after putting on another record, and ate in solitude. After he had done the dishes, Steve put on his record of The Wizard of Oz. As the opening melodies began to play, Steve thought about when he and Bucky had gone to see the movie in the cinema. They had save up enough money over the last month to see the movie and go out after. It was one of the few times they had gone out that wasn't a double date. Bucky had described all the colors to him, since he had been colorblind before the serum.  
"Her dress was bluer than any ocean you've ever seen. And her shoes," Bucky said as they walked to the bar, "Her shoes were the reddest red, Stevie. The color of the best lips you could want to kiss."  
Steve remembered how he had looked up at Bucky then, focusing on his lips as he continued. He pictured Bucky's lips being the reddest red. He had thought about how it would be to kiss him, then and there...  
Once they made it to the bar, Steve had sat and watched Bucky dance for hours. He danced with practically every dame in the joint. And all Steve could think about was how he wished he could be one of those dames, being whirled around the floor by Bucky. He wondered how it would feel to have those arms wrapped around him in a slow dance, pressed together in the dim light. But Bucky had been drafted so soon after. He never got the chance to know.  
After the serum, his world had been thrown into technicolor, just like Dorothy. His Captain's uniform was the bluest blue he'd ever seen. Was that the color of Dorothy's dress? And he kept his eyes peeled for the reddest red. Peggy's lips had been very red and, he couldn't deny that, there were very few nights on tour that he didn't think of kissing her. But even her lips didn't come close to what he would find when he rescued Bucky from Azzano. That was when he really understood.  
"I thought you were smaller," Bucky mumbled, barely coherent in the dim light of Zola's lab.  
They had barely made it to safety. But, when they did, Steve got to really look at his friend again. Bucky's eyes, Christ, they were even bluer than Steve's uniform. This was the color of Dorothy's dress. Bluer than any ocean, just as Bucky had said. And his lips... God, his imagination hadn't even come close. They were so red and he wanted to kiss them so bad. So, that's what he did. He placed a hand on either side of Bucky's face and pressed his lips, so softly, to his friend's.  
When they parted, Bucky looked at him affectionately and whispered, "What was that for?"  
"I get it, Buck," Steve replied, "The reddest red of the best lips I could want to kiss."  
Bucky stepped forward and kissed him again, firmer this time, and when they had to break away to breathe, he said, "Took you long enough, punk."  
Steve hadn't seen Wizard of Oz again until a year after he got out of the ice. Tony and Natasha had suggested it and he didn't protest. He had liked it the first time, why not watch it? But, when Dorothy had stepped into Oz the first time, all Steve could do was cry. He could really see it now, but Bucky wasn't there. He saw Bucky's eyes in Dorothy's dress and Bucky's lips in the ruby slippers. He had stormed out of the room before the munchkins could say, "Follow the yellow brick road!"  
"Play Somewhere Over the Rainbow," a soft voice said from the doorway to the living room.  
Starting up from the couch, Steve spun around and saw Bucky standing there. He was wearing SHIELD issue sweatpants and an oversized Captain America sweatshirt. His hair was down and messy, cascading over his shoulders.  
"Hey Buck," Steve said, "How're you feeling?"  
He shrugged, "Tired, but... Better. I heard your music and... I wanted to come out and be with you. Then I heard Wizard of Oz and... I remembered. I remembered that we saw it when, um, when you were small. You couldn't see Oz so, I told you all about it."  
Steve smiled and moved over to the record player, "Yeah, yeah you did. You told me all about the colors." He moved the needle back towards the beginning. Judy Garland's voice began to float from the player, filling the room.  
Bucky pushed his long hair out of his eyes and held his right hand out to Steve sheepishly, "Will you dance with me?"  
Steve raised his eyebrows, "Buck, you know I can't dance."  
"So?" he replied, taking a step closer, "I remember that I always liked watching you try," When Steve didn't move, Bucky shuffled his feet and looked up at him through his thick lashes, "Please Stevie... For me?"  
Steve could feel his stomach flipping. This is what he'd always wanted and now, Bucky was offering to dance with him. And, Bucky always seemed to know how to get him to do exactly what he wanted. That little bit of the old Bucky had not changed a bit. Sighing Steve walked forward and grabbed Bucky's hand. Bucky's hands, both metal and flesh, slid easily around Steve's waist, as Steve placed his hands on Bucky's shoulders.  
They turned slowly on the spot as the song continued, "Someday, I'll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me..."  
"Where troubles melt like lemon drops," Bucky cruned softly, looking shocked that he knew what came next. He locked eyes with Steve, "Away, above the chimney tops..." He rested his forehead onto Steve's shoulder.  
"That's where you'll find me..." Steve finished the line, running his fingers through Bucky's hair, closing his eyes and listening to the music and Bucky's breathing.  
"The reddest red," Bucky murmured.  
Steve's eyes shot open, "What did you say?"  
Taking his head off Steve's shoulder, Bucky looked at him, "The ruby slippers," he said slowly, "That's what I told you. They were the reddest red... Of the best lips you could want to kiss."  
He nodded, swallowing thickly, listening to Judy Garland sing, "Birds fly over the rainbow. Why, oh, why can't I?" They continued to gaze at one another in silence until the song ended. Without a word, Bucky walked over to the record player and restarted the song. "Somewhere, over the rainbow, way up high. There's a land that I heard of, once, in a lullaby..."  
Still not saying a word, Bucky swept Steve into his arms and twirled him gently around the room. Steve could barely believe what was happening. He had dreamed about dancing with Bucky for so long, but he had long since resigned himself to its impossibility.  
It was Bucky's voice that snapped him back to reality, "I was talking about you, you know."  
"What?"  
A sweet smile curled Bucky's lips, "I was talking about your lips. How red they were. But you didn't get it. It took you until Azzano to understand. And when you kissed me..." He trailed off, looking slightly confused. He met Steve's eyes, still holding him in a waltz pose, even though they had stopped dancing, "You kissed me. I... Remember. Just then."  
Steve gulped, tears stinging his eyes, "Bucky..."  
Bucky bit his lip lightly, moving one hand to rest on Steve's cheek, "I remember. Oh god, Stevie..." He pulled him in and kissed him fiercely, his tongue tracing Steve's bottom lip before sliding into his mouth.  
A low moan vibrated in Steve's throat as his slid his hands over Bucky's arms and shoulders, before tangling his fingers into his long brown locks, "Christ Buck," he gasped between kisses, "I love you..." Bucky pulled away suddenly and Steve froze, terrified that he had said something wrong.  
"I love you too," he said, but he looked sad, "But, Steve. I'm not the same. I'm all broken now."  
"Hey," Steve said, bringing Bucky's metal knuckles up to his lips and kissing them gently, "we're both different. And hurt and broken. I'll love you for all of it... If that's what you want."  
Bucky smiled widely, "You little punk. Of course I want that. No amount of brainwashing could ever get rid of how I feel about you."  
They kissed again, savoring the feeling of being in one another's arms again. This was worth it, Steve thought, even through all the bad days that were sure to come. It would always be enough, just to have Bucky near him, and more than he deserved to have Bucky's love as well. They both had a long way to go, but they could do it together. They continued to dance and kiss, serenaded by Judy in their own little world, "If happy little blue birds fly beyond the rainbow. Why, oh, why can't I?"

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr as Livingonaprayerstiel Thanks for reading!


End file.
